


you win

by xighs



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Humor, Kissing, Making Out, Makorra Week, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pro-Bending, Resolved Sexual Tension, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:22:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xighs/pseuds/xighs
Summary: "You'll lose at this rate," Mako warns.Korra laughs and faces him again. "You're awfully confident.""And your head's not in the game," he rebuts."That makes two of us," she cracks a grin.Korra has never given up a fight. Mako has never lost control. Somehow, it works when they do.
Relationships: Korra/Mako (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 116





	you win

**Author's Note:**

> well well well look who's caught writing makorra in this day and age......
> 
> truth be told the re-emergence of makorra week 2020 has awoken something that has been hibernating in me like an ancient beast
> 
> (said beast has possessed me to write a steamy sparring scene between them as a token of my participation)

"Again."

Mako grunts, catching his breath. His hands are still braced. "We've been at it for hours."

Korra tries in for another blow, coaxing him to start. Mako dodges. "Your body won't thank you tomorrow for overexerting it today."

"What do you know about my body," Korra snorts, swinging a leg up before Mako catches it. Taking her bait. 

His grip on her calf is hard. Her resolve is even harder. She does not give. The side of her mouth quirks up. Haughty. Her body responds before her mind finishes the thought. She kicks herself up against gravity, upper torso clenching as she centers her strength there, pushing from her one foot still in contact to the ground and launching herself off from it. 

Alright she'll admit it. Maybe a _little_ airbending was used to kickoff her lift.

_"Hey, that's cheating!"_

Korra lurches her lower body forward, legs aiming for neck as they manage to envelop around it in a grappling chokehold. _"F-fuck!"_ Mako wheezes, hands flinging up reflexively to clench around Korra's thighs. Loosening the grip in vain while he gasps for air.

She's wearing shorts today. His nails dig into skin. Korra barely feels it through the rush of her adrenaline.

He attempts a headbutt to her abdomen but it backfires because it only throws him off balance. 

Mako staggers backwards in his struggle to stay upright. Korra tightens her hold around him and gives her hips a forceful jerk back. It sends Mako toppling.

They both hit the threadbare gym mat hard. They might as well be slamming onto the plywood floor itself. Korra is stifling laughter above him and he takes this split second of her distraction as opportunity to flip her over. Upper torso strong.

Korra takes it. Sides of her mouth still upturned from a lingering laugh. He turns to her at an instant and straddles over her.

She peers up at him, head tilting. "I like the view," she teases in a velvet tone. Yet another thing that throws Mako off guard as his face colours. 

An opening for Korra.

She surges forward immediately, elbowing him hard on taut chest. She hears the deafening slam of back muscles against worn out rubber first before the groaning (and the wincing).

 _Ouch,_ Korra thinks at the back of her head. _That's gotta hurt._

"Shit, sorry," she bites her lip, getting off him and helping him up. The side of her mouth twitches up in a sheepish smile, testing her luck. "...Again?"

 _"Not fucking likely,"_ Mako spits, body aching all over. 

* * *

They win their next match against the Tigerdillos. Korra and Bolin are obnoxiously loud about it. What's new.

They drag Mako to yet another (they're currently on a winning streak) celebratory feast at Narook's - his teammates' favourite seaweed noodle shop.

"The way you took that guy out with that boomerang disc move?" Korra punches Bolin on the shoulder. "I could've _sworn_ that was a foul!"

"Okay, but can we please talk about you wiping out _two_ opponents with _one_ measly water whip?" Bolin enthuses, hands gesticulating. Indoor voice be damned. "What are the chances of wiping out _all_ _three_ with it next time?" 

Korra laughs in consideration. "You two corner them together the next match," she darts her eyes over at Mako too, "I'll take the cue!"

Mako slurps his last noodle unceremoniously. Bolin's on his third bowl and Korra on her second. They're both nowhere near finished. "That's a risk we can't afford."

"Pro-bending is _all_ about taking risks!" Bolin argues, pouting.

"I don't see any harm in switching up our combos once in awhile," Korra shrugs.

"Just-" Mako closes his eyes. Raises a hand. "Leave the strategies to me."

"But-"

"-you both better finish up soon," Mako cuts in, having none of it today. "It's late, and we've got the gym tomorrow at 8."

Bolin and Korra groan in unison. At Mako being a stick in the mud or at the early training tomorrow, Mako didn't really care.

* * *

"Run me through the physical benefits of _ball passing_ again?" Korra mutters. Still skeptical about it. She throws the ball at Mako with a force harder than usual.

Mako grunts as the ball hits his stomach first before his hands caught up to it. He tosses it swiftly to Bolin in rotation. Keeping his cool. 

"Think of it as a warm-up," he levels his voice. Trying not to sound annoyed.

"That's what stretches are for," she deadpans.

"It also helps improve reaction time," he supplies next, hoping it'll get into Korra's thick head.

"That's what assault exercises are for," Korra can't help but whine now, catching Bolin's throw upon reflex. She passes it to Mako next with less intended spite as before. "You know, when we group bend."

"I think it's quite relaxing," Bolin muses loudly. 

"Well, I think it's redundant," Korra retorts.

"It's fundamental," Mako frowns, tossing the ball back at Bolin again. He throws it over to Korra at an instant.

"It's a slow, boring exercise," Korra sighs, catching it without thought. Relying more on muscle memory. "Now sparring," her eyes glint. "Sparring, I _like."_

She gives a determined push at the Fire Ferrets' team captain.

The ball comes flying faster than he could react.

* * *

_"Come on Bolin, just one-"_

"I can't, Korra," Bolin smiles apologetically, patting her shoulder. "I told you I have a lunch date at 1 today."

"If she really were a Fire Ferrets fan she would _totally_ _understand_ if you had to train overtime!" She shouts behind his back as he starts to walk out of the gym. "She can't stay mad at you for _that!"_

"We've been practicing all morning!" Bolin shouts back. Stops in his tracks like he just remembered something. Looks back. "There's always Mako, y'know."

"But he's-!" Korra sputters.

She could feel Mako frowning at the corner of the room. 

Korra crosses the gym in a hasty stride, unsubtly pulls Bolin's neck down to whisper in his ear. _"I don't know if you've noticed, but he's been on my case lately."_

 _"You and me both,"_ Bolin chuckles lowly. "Come on, I thought you said you liked one-on-one training with Mako?" He tilts his head. "Something about him putting up a good fight?"

"Yeah, well-" Korra grumbles. Noncommitally shrugs her shoulders.

A shadow looms over their hunched over positions. She kinda expected it.

 _Of course he's eavesdropping,_ Korra rolls her eyes.

Mako wipes the sweat off his forehead with the towel around his neck. Raises an eyebrow at Korra as she begrudgingly turns back. "Got a problem with me as a sparring partner, Korra?"

She narrows her eyes up at him. "Not at all," she grits. 

"Thought so," Mako huffs. Cracks his neck to the side as he takes a step back. 

"Best two out of three," Korra declares, stepping forward.

* * *

"Again."

 _"Another round?"_ He looks at her. Incredulous. But his body is obliging, already braced in combat stance.

She lost the first round. Like the insufferable jock she is, she'll only stop when she finally wins.

Figures.

Mako grunts, low and guttural, muscles still sore. But still a fight left in him.

It's not like him to gloat over a win, so he gives her what she wants.

One long stride, two, and Mako throws a slow punch to Korra's shoulder, watching the way she moves out of his path. She quick steps around him in an arc, grinning. 

_Does this girl ever get tired?_

Mako turns to follow her movement.

Korra returns with another blow, not sparing him a moment to catch his breath. He darts to the side, avoidant. Moves in angles like a bishop in chess. 

When he continues to make no moves against her, she grows impatient. Restless. She huffs out an exhale that sounds like a laugh. 

_Oh, so that's how it is?_

Korra impulsively jumps forward in his path to catch his forearm as he tries to dodge backward. She swings and pulls him with her weight until he staggers enough.

He drops and rolls once. Twists out of her grip. 

He's now back on his feet, skin tingling from the contact.

There's a feral look in her eyes. Her hair's tousled in a mess, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. It highlights her clavicles and just how sharp they are. Like they could slice through skin if he weren't careful enough.

It's a good look on her.

He ignores the way his stomach dips, sending blood rushing south.

"Keep your control," he tries to sound firm. It's almost as if he's saying it to himself.

"The last I've checked," she mock ponders, "your control hasn't been winning you that many fights against me, has it?"

They pace around in slow circles. Egging each other on. Waiting for the other to make the first move.

"It won me the last one," Mako taunts. Wants to grin but doesn't.

Korra bristles like he knew she would. He knows his teammate like the back of his hand.

She launches at him, making a wide swing. Predictable. 

He ducks under and moves forward at last. Shoves hard at her hip, making her bend and overbalance.

When she falls, she falls hard. The ground is rigid under her when she lands. Barely any cushioning there.

 _Man, she's_ got _to remind them to change these lousy mats before somebody gets seriously injured._

Mako's knee is against her gut, his hand pressed flat to her lower rib. 

She'll bruise, certainly. 

"One-zero," Mako says with a hard exhale.

When he retracts his hand back, fingers brush against the underside of her breast. It burns from where his touch has left. The air feels denser somewhat in his wake.

She watches in almost an ogle as visible pectorals that aren't obscured by his tank top flex and unflex as he springs back on his heels. Putting more distance between them.

She smiles at how skittish he is. Wonders if that brush was accidental.

All that adrenaline that has made its home in her skin catches fire like oil. She could feel it burning her clean as she chases him around the gym.

"Make a move, Korra," Mako growls at her the fifth time she goads him into another feint.

"Where's all that talk about control now?" Korra smirks. There's something off about him. Maybe she's never noticed before but she's definitely noticing now.

She's wearing her usual singlet and shorts - nothing like he's never seen her in before. 

They're less restricting. More freeing. Let's her move better. Faster. Doesn't weigh her down.

It almost looks as if he's struggling to keep his eyes up and not wander.

 _Huh,_ Korra absently thinks.

He advances then, sudden and annoyed. She takes a tap on the shoulder before his leg comes up to hit her side. Meaning to topple her. 

She grabs hold of his calf and falls, hearing him curse as he's dragged along. As soon as she lands, she rolls. Puts her arm across his neck. Presses down.

"One-one," she grins, loving the way he flushes at her disposal.

He shoves her back. Rolls to his feet in that particular fluid way of his. 

It's nice to watch. 

She deliberately takes her time pushing herself upright. Pulls her arm over her chest to stretch the shoulder she's just fallen on.

Her singlet shifts with the movement. Riding up her waist for the briefest moment. She feels him watching her. Or more accurately, watching slivers of exposed skin peeking between fabric.

When she's finally on her feet, she wastes no time. She makes a grab at him when he circles too close. Mako, smooth as ever, ducks under her arm. Out of reach again. 

He shoves at her back so she staggers forward.

She's better than this, she _swears._

"You'll lose at this rate," Mako warns.

Korra laughs and faces him again. "You're awfully confident."

"And your head's not in the game," he rebuts. 

"That makes two of us," Korra cracks a grin.

She feints him again, and he bounces back as ever. Makes a furious noise at himself, then tries to trip her. Korra jumps right over it, closer to him, and for once he doesn't scurry away. 

Now his hands are lifted in an awkward brace, uncertain. Korra withholds it, not wanting to reach the end of the bout so soon. She makes no move. Fixes him there with a burning stare like she isn't quite sure what to make of him. Like she's curious and intrigued by him all at once. This… _effect_ on him that she has at present moment.

Mako steps forward quickly, cutting her reverie short. Grabs the front of her singlet in frustration. 

Korra grabs his wrist in return. Holds him still there and smiles at his tense surprise. 

If there's one thing for sure: Mako will never quite understand leverage like Korra does. She takes pride in that.

Korra steps in. And in his effort to maintain the space while she has him held, he nearly falls again. 

Mako clucks his tongue in irritation, wisens up. Throws himself back and to the right, trying to get loose.

Korra has been doing this for far longer, been training with the White Lotus ever since she could remember. She lets him go on purpose just to watch him break free. She knows they would never approve of this if they saw this live.

She smiles against her better judgement. Pivots to follow him. Tireless as they move like clockwork between each other. Like gears rotating. Like planets orbiting. Untouching. 

"What? No bending today?" He jabs.

She doesn't fall for it. Almost wants to- just to see his reaction.

She lunges in faster than he can move. 

It forces him to backpedal desperately to stay on his feet. 

He changes tactic at the last minute, to the left this time. He yanks her hand taut and forces her to follow until she stumbles down on one knee.

She doesn't expect him to bowl her over. Not really. 

It’s a rough tackle, being bodily shoved back and down. Korra's leg is caught under Mako's as he forces her down with a ferocity she's been trying to pull out of him all this while. 

The hand still in his grip slams against the ground, while his free hand curls around her neck. The faint threat of a chokehold. 

His weight holds her down, and she lets out a huff of air as he pins her.

Korra's hand settles on his shoulder. Like she has a chance to dislodge him. 

Mako pushes her wrist harder against the mat. Puts her in place.

Korra stills. Watching him braced above her like déjà vu. Panting and bright eyed. His grip on her feels like a brand, burning hot. When she swallows, she can feel her neck move against his palm.

He can too, it seems, and something pops with the suddenness of a soap bubble. The fierceness in his amber eyes melting like honey into something else. They flick across her face. Her neck. Back to her eyes. Then, down to her mouth.

That's two-one. 

Korra sucks in a deep breath and sighs it out airily. Flutters her eyes shut. 

Lets her fingers curl. Lets her head fall back. Lets her hand slip from his shoulder to the mat without challenge. Allowing her body to grow lax in such a vulnerable position.

Mako glances down to look at her. _Really look at her._

He has never seen Korra so voluntarily pliant before. Thinks he is dreaming it.

His eyes settle onto her closed eyelids, and his lips part like he's about to scold her for letting her guard down so easily like this before he thinks better of it. Thinks this is intentional.

This has been what Korra wanted all along.

His hold on Korra's neck lightens, making her suck in a sharp breath of relieved air. 

Mako doesn’t move far, and she cannot see how he moves, but she feels it. The calloused pad of his thumb trailing up, treading along the soft skin under her jaw. Then back to the shivery, ticklish skin under her ear.

His hand feels good on her. Careful, timid- but good.

Her next breath is a sigh in ode to his travels west. Tracing and smoothing her cheek over, caressing her.

Mako's body moves heavy against her with the motion of her chest - away, then closer; rise, then fall. His knees shift off her to bracket her hips instead. 

The amber of his eyes is now a narrow ring around wide dark pupils as he stares down at her like this. So gorgeously sprawled under him. 

Time feels slower.

Mako shifts and she shifts back, untwisting her hips to lay out flat under him. His thumb touches just under her mouth and-

Her eyes flutter open as she catches it in between her lips. Sucks on it. Watches how his skin blooms red starting from neck-up. This effect she has on him.

 _"You win,"_ she whispers, giving his thumb a good lick before releasing it. 

It's lewd to watch. Something in him snaps. He doesn't wait a second longer- they've been dawdling for so long, it is only fair.

The fierceness in his eyes is back again as he plunges in for a kiss like he's hungry for it. Hand gripping hard on her face to tilt her in, slotting his lips against hers, desperate. 

Korra kisses back just as hard, hands spreading up against the striations on his back. All muscle and sinew. Dipping and creasing as his shoulders arch and fall in tandem to his jaw working against her, tongues battling, teeth clashing. 

Korra grinds up against his groin and it's hard as rock. Mako tastes the grin against his lips as he pushes back against her just as urgently. 

They part for a moment, gasping for air. Glazed eyes mirroring each other's.

"I like the view," she teases. Tone as velvet as the first time she's thrown Mako off guard with it.

"Shut up," Mako's voice is hoarse. He doesn't care. He presses lips against hers again, and again, and again as she repays the favour with twice as much fervour.

Korra has never given up a fight.

Mako has never lost control.

Somehow, it works when they do.

When they part for air again, Mako buries his face in the crook of her neck. Ravishing her there instead, tasting the salt of her sweat. Korra lets out a soft moan, hand slipping in under his tank top from behind. Yanks it upward. 

_"Off,"_ she commands. Rolls her hips up against his arousal once more with Mako meeting it in a languid rock. Easing her down, then up, then down again.

He peppers a trail of kisses to her jaw. Gives it an indulgent suck at the bone there then proceeds to supple lips. Swollen from kissing. 

"Bolin could walk in any moment-" He murmurs against Korra in between lazy kisses as she gently nips at his lip. _"Mmh-"_

 _"Then make it quick,"_ she rasps in one breathless exhale. Reaching a hand down to the waistband of his pants.

**Author's Note:**

> what korra wants korra gets amirite


End file.
